by Eden Fierce
I shuddered. “Don’t act so excited. It’s disgusting.”
Lukas watched me for a moment and then walked away, his steps a bit lighter, his grin even wider than before.
I turned and blew away the wisp of blond hair that had fallen in my face. I tucked it back into my ponytail and followed him to the house.
Jonathan stayed several steps behind, keeping his head down. He knew I was angry and didn’t bother trying to talk me out of it.
When we arrived at the house, Father had returned home. He was in the kitchen with Mother, and they were talking in hushed tones. Jonathan and I didn’t try to get close enough to hear. It wouldn’t matter; Father would be able to detect us.
As predicted, once we encroached the hall, our parents fell silent.
“Did you have a nice time?” Mother asked. The deep double lines between her brows instantly vanished.
Jonathan handed her the fabric.
“Lovely,” she said, smiling at the folded material.
“Father,” Jonathan said. “I thought I could join you tomorrow night, after Eris’s ceremony.”
“Oh, is that tomorrow?” Father teased.
Jonathan blew out a breath in frustration. “I’m ready. It feels like a waste of time and talent to be in the bakery.”
“Talent, eh?” Father said.
Jonathan stood tall. “I think I’ve proven—”
“You’ve still a ways to go yet, son.”
“Father,” Jonathan began, but Father waved him away.
“Patience. You have the rest of your life to hunt—to be an adult. Don’t be in such a rush.”
The skin around Jonathan’s jaw tightened. “I’ve been patient. I’ve trained hard. If you would just—”
“Jonathan, you have your answer.” Father’s tone was final.
“But you let Eris hunt far more than I when she was my age. She’s a girl! It’s not fair!”
“Enough!” Father said. He furrowed his brow. “You mean to tell me how to train my children? Eris was ready. And you’re ready when I say you are.”
Jonathan breathed quickly from his nose and gritted his teeth.
“Jon,” Mother began, but he turned and ran from the house.
“Dyre,” Mother said, reaching out to Father.
He pulled away. “I won’t baby him, Ingrid. He has to learn to listen first.”
Mother nodded, and I went outside. Jonathan wasn’t in the barn, or the courtyard, or anywhere along the wall.
I approached Jed, one of our many cousins who patrolled our stone walls.
“Have you seen Jonathan?”
He shook his head.
I retreated back to the house, guided by the glowing light of the torches that lined the perimeter. Just before I reached the door, that familiar feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I turned to see a pair of red eyes gleaming just above the wall.
“Nightwalker!” I yelled, taking off into a sprint.
The heavy footsteps of those patrolling grew closer, running toward my voice.
I ran to the wall and leaped, my fingers barely gripping the ledge. I pulled myself up and looked down, trying to see the body that belonged to those eyes.
Father ran to the base of the wall and peered up at me.
“See anything?”
I squinted my eyes to try to see better into the night. The woods were still.
I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s gone.”
I climbed down, and Father frowned, clearly troubled. “You’re sure?” Father asked.
I nodded once.
“That’s twice in twenty-four hours. Either we have a curious nightwalker, or they’re planning something.”
“Maybe we should go hunting?” I asked as the cousins returned to their posts.
Father shook his head. “You have a big day tomorrow. Go in for dinner, and then get to bed.”
I obeyed.
The empty chair at dinner seemed to be the loudest thing in the room. We waited for Jonathan in silence while Mother and Father argued over his whereabouts. Once the clock struck midnight, my mother stood up and paced the floor.
“What if something happened to him, Dyre? What if he went into the woods?” she asked, picking at her skirt.
“He’s probably sulking somewhere,” Father said. “It’s always rough on the younger children when we change their sleeping from days to nights. You know they get emotional. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“For hours? Dyre! It’s worrying me that you’re so calm about this! Where’s your concern?”
“He’ll be home soon,” Father said, more to himself than to Mother.
In the next moment, the door slowly creaked open, and Jonathan crept up the steps, thinking we were in bed.
After glancing at all of us, Mother ran to the stairs. “Jonathan?”
We all stood up from our chairs and followed her to the entrance hall. Jonathan was standing on the steps, his back still turned to Mother.
“Where have you been?” Father asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Jonathan!” Mother said, her voice raised an octave. “Answer your father!”
Jonathan spun around. “Why should I show a man respect who doesn’t respect me?” he growled.
“Get down here!” Father’s voice boomed so loudly that my shoulders shot up to my ears. Jonathan slowly descended the few steps he’d managed to climb before Mother caught him. “Where have you been?”
“I went for a walk!”
“You will not leave your room except for meals and chores, do you hear me?” Mother said.
“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, his ears bright red.
“You’re forbidden to hunt until you learn some consideration,” Father added.
“No,” he whispered. “No! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have a sister who hunts, and I don’t? The other kids think I’m weak!”
“Is that what this is about?” Father asked, taking a step. He walked forward and put reassuring hands on Jonathan’s shoulders. “Son, they don’t know the order of things. Who are they to presume when you’re ready? Why would you give them that power?”
Jonathan hung his head. “It’s maddening. I’ve run out of things to say to them.”
Father frowned. “We don’t explain ourselves, son. Remember that.”
Jonathan nodded. “May I go to my room? I’m not hungry.”
Father nodded, and Jonathan trudged upstairs.
“Finish your dinner,” Mother murmured, kissing all of our foreheads. I smiled softly when she had Clemens bend down, but still had to reach on the tips of her toes.
We cleaned our plates in silence, and then all sat by the fire for a few hours before turning in. When I reached the doorway to my room, I paused. The red dress mocked me, reminding me of the ridiculous event that would take place the following day. I rushed past it and fell into bed, my face in the pillow. I would trade punishment with Jonathan any day, instead of having to go through the public humiliation of a betrothal.
From a deep sleep, I sat straight up in bed, breathing hard. Something from the deep wood had been chasing me, and no matter how fast I ran or how many turns I took, it was right behind me. I hugged myself and rocked back and forth, feeling the sweat dripping down my face, instantly cool from the winter air.
Wrapping my plush, red robe around me, I padded to the washroom to wash my face, but seeing the large basin in the center of the room, I pulled loose my hair, which was tied in a knot at the crown of my head, and then sat on the edge of the stone that had been laid around it. I switched on the lever, and watched as the steamy water poured in. It was in these times that I was grateful to be Priory. Our home was the only one with running water, much less hot water. In the dead of winter, a hot bath was the only thing that calmed the nightmares that plagued me.
I peeled off my robe and then my white cotton gown. It was still damp from sweat.
One foot at a time, I stepped into the
hot water, wincing at first and then letting myself slide down until I was neck deep. I soaked, hearing only the water dripping from the spout, and the sound made by the water the few times I moved.
I’d kept it from Mother and Father, and even my brothers, that I’d had daymares most of my life. The last thing a woman in the Priory wanted was to appear weak. However, this time felt different, as if it weren’t a dream at all, but a message.
This wasn’t quite like the others; I noticed a tiny difference. I had caught a glimpse of something other than the woods flying past me as I ran, like I did most nights, from my assailant. I saw those same red eyes that had hovered twice before above our wall. But they weren’t after me. They were just watching. Waiting patiently. But for what, I didn’t know.
Just as my skin began to prune, the sunrise turned the walls from drab stone into a beautiful watercolor painting. The water had cooled anyway, so I stood and wrapped myself in my robe.
As I left the washroom and turned the corner, a large yet short figure was in front of me. Instinctively, my hand flew up and then paused in midair.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Lukas hissed. He was keeping his voice down, and with good reason. He was standing in the back hall with Johanna, her coral-red lip stain smeared on his lips.
I yanked back my hand.
Johanna’s head was still ducked, her shoulders raised nearly to her ears.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?” I wasn’t sure why I was whispering. I would love it if Mother caught Johanna slobbering all over her son in the dark. Any hope Johanna might have for Lukas would be annihilated.
Lukas’s expression went from shock to panic to embarrassment in a matter of a moment. “Eris…you, uh, you know Johanna.”
“Obviously, not as well as you do,” I said.
Johanna’s big eyes watched me, waiting to see what I would do.
“Eris, please…,” she began. “It’s your big day. Let’s not ruin it.”
“You have chores,” I said to Lukas. “And you should take your lips and go home,” I said to Johanna. I walked through the doorway to the great chamber and then to the front entrance, opening the large, wooden door.
Johanna glanced at Lukas, who only offered an apologetic expression. When she saw he wouldn’t protest, she smoothed out her hair and the smeared stain on her lips, and then walked out the door.
I slammed the door shut, making Lukas wince.
“You better get going, before someone comes looking for who slammed the door.”
“You won’t tell them?” he said.
“No. But you stay away from that girl, Lukas. Mark my words. Once you have her, you’ll see her for what she really is, and then it’ll be too late.”
“It’s my mistake to make, sister.”
I sighed. “Just…don’t rush. Okay? You have your whole life ahead of you. There is a world of beautiful, sweet girls out there.”
Lukas’s mouth turned up in a half smile. “Not like Johanna.”
He ducked back down the hall and out the back door to begin his chores, and Father ambled from his room into the hall. His hair was poking out in every direction, and he was scratching his backside.
I frowned.
“Eris. Is everything all right? Was that you who slammed the door?”
I couldn’t say that her son was just pawing all over an all-to-eager harlot, so I did the next best thing. “Lukas’s a traitor!” I blurted out. “He’s walking around with that…that…Johanna. He’s courting Johanna Wayland!”
He suppressed a smile, as if he knew something I didn’t.
“She was here! Asking for him! It’s barely dawn! What sort of girl does that? Not a lady. Certainly not one meant to marry into our family.”
“The Waylands are a good family,” Father said. He could barely contain his teasing smile.
“Johanna has been wretched. Just wretched! All of a sudden she’s this sugary-sweet, coy, tittering fool, and Lukas has fallen for it. You have to do something, Father. You can’t allow her to manipulate Lukas this way. He won’t listen to me.”
“Maybe you should soak in another bath,” he said, pointing to my robe. I crossed my arms.
“Will it help me keep Lukas from the hell that is Johanna?”
Father leaned back, and his booming laugh traveled throughout the house. He took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and then kissed my forehead.
“Believe it or not, sweet Eris, there is a hell from which men do not wish to be saved.”
He walked away, still chuckling, and my face caught fire. Why would no one listen? Why did all of this ridiculous pairing make people so…so…senseless? It didn’t just make the two involved blind, but everyone around them.
When Lukas returned from his chores, I was in my room, glaring at the red dress I would have to put on in a few hours.
“Eris? Did you tell them?” he asked, his head barely poking into my doorway from the hall.
With skill and speed, I grabbed one of my boots and chucked it just right of his face. He yelped and ducked and then peeked around the corner again.
“Eris! What the heck?” Lukas yelled.
“Johanna Wayland! That’s what!” I shouted, and stomped into my room.
THERE IT WAS, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I paused in the doorway, all thoughts of Johanna the witch and my brother’s betrayal vanished. Why did it have to be in the center of the room, taunting me all this time? Why did Mother insist upon it?
The ruched, blood-red fabric flowed over one layer, and then another, until it billowed out and touched the floor. The neckline was just off the shoulder, with capped sleeves and a form-fitting waist. The dress was too much, made to bring attention to whoever wore it. Not me at all.
I sat on the bed, rubbing one hand against the other. My life was over. Just hours from that moment, I would belong to someone else.
Father’s heavy footsteps sounded in the hall and rounded the corner. His reaction was surprising.
“You’re breaking my heart,” he said, sighing. “I’ve never seen a young lady so forlorn over her betrothal. Did I really raise a daughter so obstinate?”
“You truly believe this is about you, or the laws? My life is about to change, and not because of my own doing.”
My answer took him aback, and then his surprise disappeared, replaced by understanding. “I made the best of it. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“You should be proud that I’m so strong-minded, Father.”
“I am, and I chose a man for you who will be proud of it as well.”
“I can’t think of a worse fate than to be given to someone. Like a slave. Like property.” I glared at the dress. It represented everything I dreaded.
Father stood. “I can think of a worse fate. You could be wandering the woods unable to think of anything but your thirst.”
I sighed. “I’m not so sure.”
Father’s face turned red and his expression severe. He was finished trying to placate me. “I worry about you, Eris.”
“I worry about me too.”
He grumbled. “Your priorities are…It’s not natural. To feel your betrothal is a fate worse than a nightwalker’s. If you had a choice, I don’t think you’d—”
“I don’t. Have a choice. And that is the problem.”
Father narrowed his eyes at me, and then his shoulders fell. He shook his head.
“Eris!” Mother called from down the hall.
“She’s been planning this day your entire life. You’re her only daughter. Don’t ruin this for her.”
My lips formed a hard line. “This isn’t about her, Father. It’s not about you. This is my life that’s about to change, and I don’t want it to. Please,” I began, my tone turning to begging, “please don’t make me do this. I could stay here. Live here. Keep living my life the way I have been.”
“Eris, it’s the law. This is the way things are done.”
“Then the laws are wrong!”
“Eris!” Fa
ther bellowed.
Mother rounded the corner, her eyes round and dancing between Father and me. “Dyre?”
Father relaxed and smiled. “She’s just nervous, dear. She’ll be fine.”
Father stood and left the room without another word, and Mother offered a cautious smile.
I forced the corners of my mouth to turn up. “Where shall we start?”
She held up an iron wand and a brush. “With your hair.”
I walked over to my vanity and sat on the velvet-covered bench. I pulled my long hair over onto one shoulder, casting my sky-blue eyes onto the mirror that hung on the wall, staring at my reflection. Did I belong here? I didn’t feel like it. I was meant to be something else. Something…more. Father was right. I wasn’t a good Prior. I had let him down, something I had never wanted to do. But he’d let me down too. I was in the genesis of my life, and it felt like it was about to end.
“Okay, Mother,” I said, picking up the brush and pulling it through my hair. “Let’s get started then.”
FOR A WHILE MOTHER JUST PLAYED with various pieces of my hair, an absent smile on her face. Then she wound it around the hot iron. When she finally finished, my hair fell across my shoulder blades in thick, golden ringlets.
Mother took her time painting my lips a blood red to match my dress. My pale skin contrasted against the crimson color, and I tried to look everywhere but the mirror. Mother wanted me to be excited about this, and I just couldn’t, so I pretended to be nervous instead.
Mother walked over to the dress form, carefully loosening the dozens of buttons that fastened the back. “Get your petticoat on, darling.”
I obeyed, walking over to my wardrobe, pulling the fluffy white slip from its iron hanger, and stepping into it. Mother pulled the dress up and off the form and held it away from her.
“Eris?” she said.
“Yes?”
She chuckled, pushing the dress toward me. “Well? Put it on! You’ve been staring at it for weeks.”
I nodded, and walked over to her, stepping one foot in and then the other. Mother pulled it up, and I slipped my arms in.
She sighed as she fastened the buttons. “I just can’t believe it. Doesn’t seem possible that the day is finally here.”